


The Apple Falling From The Tree

by eggplantsavant (mightyscrub)



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Familial Relationships, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 15:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightyscrub/pseuds/eggplantsavant
Summary: It was a widely understood fact of the universe that Dad was unhip even by dad standards, so the fact that he’d developed a habit of hanging out with the neighborhood Man of Mystery could only be suspicious.She wanted the scoop.(Or: Robert and Amanda bonding, and also Amanda maaaybe having more trouble adjusting to her dad dating again than she lets on)





	The Apple Falling From The Tree

It was pretty late in the afternoon by the time Amanda got home. Move-in day at HIA was looming ever closer, and she needed to stuff as many burritos in her face as humanly possible from her favorite food truck before she left. Summer was winding down, and each new ‘rito contributed to her sense of mounting frazzled anticipation.

With these circumstances and a stomach full of cheesy beansy goodness, it was only natural that she might not be paying too much attention as she bounded into the living room.

The tv was on to some weird black and white war footage. Either World War I or World War II, she got them mixed up when it was just on tv.

“Did the History Channel start showing actual history and you lost the remote again, Pops?” she asked, entirely sympathetic, only to turn and realize it wasn’t Dad sitting on the sofa at all.

It was their neighbor, Robert Small.

He was looking rakishly rumpled, which seemed to be his signature fashion. His brown and gray hair was all over the place, but he kinda owned it, especially in his snazzy leather jacket and sunglasses. He was watching tv wearing sunglasses. Who did that? Robert Small, apparently.

“Ancient Aliens wouldn’t last a minute in a war zone,” he said, without missing a beat.

She grinned, because she was good at handling new people, unlike Dad. She knew she could disarm them with a cute smile while she scrambled to think of something not-embarrassing to say.

“Where’s my dad?”

“Shower.”

She listened and yep the shower was indeed going down the hall.

“Are you guys… hanging out?” she asked. Darn. That was a dumb question. She smiled again. Disarm em.

“I’m actually here to assassinate him,” Robert deadpanned.

“Careful. We have an alliance with Craig, who has an alliance with Mat, etc. It’ll start Cul-de-sac War I.” She at least had the World Wars covered on that front.

He gave a quick sharp smile that went back to unreadable as he regarded the television again.

Dad and Robert had been spending a lot of time together recently.

It was a widely understood fact of the universe that Dad was unhip even by dad standards, so the fact that he’d developed a habit of hanging out with the neighborhood Man of Mystery, the guy who had sunglasses on his body 24 hours a day and was probably known by at least two other aliases, could only be suspicious.

She wanted the scoop.

So she plopped her purse on the floor by the coffee table and sat down next to him. He turned very slowly to look at her, with the kind of smooth timing that cool people have. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses, which was also cool. But she was posturing. If she was sitting weirdly close to a guy she didn’t know very well, it was because their sofa was too small. And also she was making sure her knees were spread out in an intimidating fashion. She needed him to know she meant business. This was between him and her. This was a test, and anyone who failed this test was not allowed to fiendishly whisk away her poor naive dad into the night.

“Robert… Can I call you Robert?”

He watched her impassively then finally nodded.

“My dad has three nipples.” She knew her face was perfectly neutral, because two could play at that game.

Long silence.

“My ex had four,” Robert said.

Damn. He was good.

“He also gets athlete’s foot like nobody’s business,” she said. That one wasn’t even a lie. It was gross. Nothing worse than dad feet.

“Impressive, considering the most athletic thing he does is reach for tall cabinets.”

“He snores so loud my mom had to sleep in a separate room.”

“That kind of hardship builds character.”

“He likes pineapple on pizza.”

Robert grinned wickedly. “Perfect.”

This was one tough egg to crack. She crossed her arms appreciatively.

“Robert.”

“Yes.”

“Do you like my dad?”

He was quiet for a moment, sunglasses reflective. “Yes.”

“Good.”

That was the main prerequisite, right?

She scooped the remote off the coffee table and changed the channel. He made a grunty noise but didn’t protest further.

It wasn’t long before the distant shower sounds squeaked off and Dad eventually emerged in jeans and a cheesy t-shirt from a ghost tour. His hair was wet and he smiled, glancing between the two of them with a hint of… expectation? Hope?

_Don’t worry, Dad, I will protect your innocence by any means necessary._

“You two getting along?” he asked, smile hitching higher.

“I was just about to call the police,” Amanda said brightly.

“Go easy on him, Panda, he has a hangover.”

Oh. The sunglasses were suddenly a lot less cool.

She briefly squinted at him sideways and Robert’s stoic face looked a little pained. He wasn’t off the hook yet, she decided.

“You guys wanna finish that apple pie in the fridge?” Dad asked.

“I’m impressed you didn’t finish it yourself,” said Robert.

“Apple isn’t Dad’s favorite,” Amanda piped up, for some reason even she didn’t understand.

They looked at each other and Dad’s smile went a little confused.

“...I’ll scoop the ice cream,” he said disarmingly.

 

x

 

_“Your daughter’s a crafty one.”_

_“Uh oh, did she give you the business?”_

_“Something like that.”_

_“I’ll talk to her, I guess.”_

_“Please don’t.”_

_“Haha. That bad huh?”_

 

x

 

Sometimes she’d get anxious. Like, a particularly upbeat song would come on the radio and she’d think about marching off to HIA to kick ass, but instead of feeling empowered like she should she’d just get worried and say “UGH” at herself and turn the channel.

HIA sure was far away. Long way from the burritos.

Just because the universe likes to be difficult, about a month before move-in day her car broke down on her way to the movies.

She UGHed particularly loud about that.

It wasn’t the first time, so at least she knew right off the bat where to find her insurance card and the right phone numbers in her glove compartment. It did leave her outside leaning against a busted car on the side of the road though, which is a hard thing to do without looking like a doofus.

She shot finger guns at any of the sidewalk passersby who gave her weird looks. Perched against her trunk, she could make perfect unwavering eye contact with them too, until they glanced away, thereby crowning her the victor of the awkward interaction.

It also gave her a perfect view for spotting dogs. A little Boston terrier tottered along the sidewalk, tongue flopping, pulling on its leash towards Amanda in that blessed way than any good dog (meaning all dogs) wants to be friends with every human in sight.

“Dog!” Amanda christened it, pointing, overjoyed by this encounter.

“Hey.”

Unexpectedly the dog’s leash ended in Robert Small.

“You have a dog?” she asked him, stepping to the sidewalk so she could squat and give this small dumb noodle all the pets it deserved.

Robert wasn’t wearing his jacket for once, just a v-neck sweater with the requisite sunglasses clipped at his chest. His eyes were kinda squinty, like he was allergic to daylight. “Careful,” he said. “Betsy’s vicious.”

Betsy’s buggy eyes rolled in bliss.

“What’s wrong with the car?” he added, slipping the end of the leash to Amanda so he could circle her car critically. He went for the hood without a word, which she’d left propped open because she thought she saw smoke and was paranoid about it.

“I dunno, it just cut off the air conditioning and gave me a You’re Gonna Die message,” she said. “Something with the temperature?”

“Sounds like a coolant problem.” He was really sticking his head in there. She kinda felt protective of her ride, since Robert normally was the sort of person not exactly fit for delicate procedures. But he seemed weirdly in his element here. “I can’t see a leak, but that might be it.”

“I called a guy.” _I got it handled, buddy._

He finally emerged again and gave her a look. It was admittedly impressive that his dark eyes were just as unreadable as his sunglasses.

“I’m parked over by Mat’s. You need a ride somewhere?” he asked.

She grinned, patting Betsy’s happily wiggling butt. “I’m not supposed to accept rides from strange men.”

“We’ve known each other awhile now.”

“Yeah, but it hasn’t made you less strange.”

He nodded approvingly. “Fair point.”

He straightened again, popping his back, and returned to the sidewalk, holding out a hand for Betsy’s leash. His bizarre hand tattoo peeked out of his sleeve, behind his thumb. She relinquished the dog.

And… he didn’t leave. He just stood there, Betsy circling his legs, her tiny tail wagging.

Oh no. Was he gonna wait with her?

He still didn’t leave, squinting ahead at some middle distance. This was… awkward as hell.

“... You’re going to school soon,” he said.

No! That was the worst conversation topic possible!

“Yep.”

“For… photography.”

“Yep.”

They stood shoulder to shoulder, staring that middle distance down, like it owed them both money.

“Your dad’ll probably cry, huh,” he said.

“Trust me, he has already.”

“Don’t get abducted by aliens while you’re away. It’ll break his heart. Stay away from cattle fields.”

“I’ve watched enough ancient astronaut theorists to know my way around a saucer.”

He seemed to be getting more comfortable, which ticked her off a little because she was just getting more and more jittery. To be honest, a part of her didn’t like that she was leaving and Dad would be shacking up with this almost-stranger. It was stupid and petty, but she couldn’t get rid of the feeling.

“I’ll help your dad ward off the invasion on the cul-de-sac front,” Robert said. “Make sure the aliens don’t mess with your stuff.”

“Oh I’d never leave you alone with Dad, of course,” she said. “My plan is to destroy you before I go.”

Woah. That came out more bloodthirsty than she intended. He looked legitimately kinda nervous.

Why’d she feel proud of that?

They just stood there in the world’s most uncomfortable silence for, in her opinion, longer than human capacity, until finally her car repairman showed up, pulling in across the street.

“Looks like I’m covered, chief,” she said. She smiled a little too big.

Robert pulled out his cell phone, sighing through his nose.

“I’ll give you my phone number just in case. I’m sending you a text.”

“Wait. How’d you get _my_ phone number?” she asked.

“I have everybody’s phone number,” he said cryptically.

Her phone buzzed, and sure enough she’d received a text from an unknown number. It was just a car emoji. She added him to her contacts as Man of Mystery.

“You with the feds?” she asked, shooting him a suspicious look.

He sneered. “You believe in the feds?”

She was still thinking about it after he left. Man, he was good.

 

x

 

_“Is Amanda stressed about college?”_

_“She’s seemed pretty excited about it with me… Why? Did she say something?”_

_“Dunno. She just seems nervous.”_

_“Well, it’ll be her first time away…”_

_“She’ll miss you probably.”_

_“Haha! Heaven forbid she escape her uncool dad’s kid-embarrassing radius.”_

_“Nah. She’ll miss you a lot.”_

_“By the way, did you ever text her?”_

_“...”_

_“You asked for her phone number for a reason right? Peace offerings?”_

_“... Worried she’d send a hitman.”_

_“You two are something else.”_

 

x

 

Dad took her shopping for dorm supplies, acquiescing kindly to her style choices and offering questionable advice about campus life. (“Trust me, you’ll need a shower caddy.” “What even is a shower caddy?”)

Somewhere among the twin-sized sheets he stared off into space over the edge of their to-buy list, his expression calm but wistful, and so very warm-hearted. She gave him a hug around his middle, smushing her face against his side, the same way she always did.

Her dad was the best dad in the world. It was weird to think she wouldn’t see him for so long, and she could tell he was grappling with the same weirdness.

These small moments seemed all the more special for it.

After the school shopping, he offered to take her to Steak N Shake and hell yeah, a free burger and more Dad time was exactly what the college anxiety doctor ordered.

What she didn’t expect at all was for Robert Fricken Small to be seated at one of the stools when they walked in, nursing a plate of fries.

Did this guy just appear from the ground at the most inopportune times? Had somebody said his name three times in front of a mirror?

But Dad’s face had brightened so much, and there was no way she could shoot that down, even if it did make her stomach twist a little. She’d kinda hoped to be the one cheering him up here. Wasn’t that the whole point of father-daughter bonding?

They took the two stools next to Robert, and Amanda tried not to brood over the milkshake menu.

Dad and Robert shot each other wisecracks so easily. Their elbows nudged on the counter and neither of them cared one bit. It was like their bodies bowed toward one another ever so slightly, natural and comfortable. She felt like she was on a whole other planet at Dad’s opposite side.

 _Don’t be so dumb,_ she told herself.

Dad turned his big smile on her finally, patting a hand between her shoulders. She nudged him off gently, embarrassed.

Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice. “We should teach Robert the chicken finger milkshake specialty,” he said.

No! That was a family secret!

Robert was awkwardly fiddling with the paper from his straw between big thumbs. He wouldn’t quite look at them. “Sounds like putting chicken fingers in a milkshake,” he said quietly.

“Yeah! Well… A name’s gotta advertise accurately, right?” said Dad. “It’s surprisingly delicious. Right, Manda?”

“I kinda wanted a burger,” Amanda said quickly.

Dad’s smile faltered just a tiny bit and she felt awful about it.

For all of lunch, it seemed like Dad was stuck between two people shyly not talking to each other.

It was so stupid.

 

x

 

_”Can I ask something weird, Rob? You don’t have to answer.”_

_“Shoot.”_

_“Is it painful for you to be around Amanda? You seem… really careful with her.”_

_“I dunno. Not really. She’s a good kid.”_

_“I might need you to tell me if something’s not ok.”_

_“No. She’s great and what you have with her is great.”_

_“... Thanks. That means a lot.”_

_“I think I’m just worried about messing it up.”_

 

x

 

It seemed like all her excitement about HIA was just turning ugly and worried in her stomach here at summer’s final stretch, and she should have known that the Emmas wouldn’t help with that. More precisely, she should have known not to trust Emma R. to drive her to their former senior class’ big college send-off party. Somebody snuck in drinks and there was dancing and honestly it wasn’t really Amanda’s speed at all. She realized belatedly that she couldn’t really _talk_ to her friends any more, at least not in the easy way necessary to make a dumb party fun.

She and Emma R. were back on ok terms but… Emma also quickly ditched her to hang all over Noah. It didn’t seem like much of a send-off at all, at least for Amanda. It felt more like her standing alone at the food table surrounded by drunk teenagers who thought they were way more interesting inebriated than they actually were.

Maybe the bright side to HIA being far away was she had nothing to come back to here anyway. Ugh. She felt so lonely, she even pictured that the warmth of her jacket was some intangible pair of arms wrapped around her.

That was a sign to find a way outta here, before she got _really_ pathetic.

She told Emma R. she was leaving (she didn’t even ask how Amanda was getting home) and then went out into the night, letting the air cool her overheated face as she started down the sidewalk. With one hand in her jacket pocket, she thumbed through her phone contacts.

No friends--no rides.

It was getting late. She didn’t want to wake up Dad, or even Craig.

In the middle of the alphabet she stopped at Man of Mystery.

What the hell. Robert at least was nocturnal and wouldn’t care enough to ask questions.

She texted him: **Can you pick me up from a gross party?**

Her phone hung in her hand for awhile, her knuckles getting cold in the chilly breeze off the bay. But to her surprise, she got an answer.

**where u at?**

She typed him some quick directions.

 **b there in 20** he responded.

She slipped her phone back in her pocket, thankful to have both hands in jacket warmth now, and hunched there on the corner, listening to moths thwap themselves into the streetlight overhead. It was the longest twenty minutes ever, but sure enough Robert arrived just like he said he would, in probably the oldest pickup currently in commission. She hauled ass into the passenger’s seat before he could get out to greet her.

She shot him a quick smile, and his mouth quirked back reflexively as she buckled up.

“Giving strange rides a second chance, I see,” he said. “Home?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Things were just getting dumb.”

“No problem.”

He pulled into the middle of his lane again and went for a u-turn. His car was as old on the inside as it was out, the leather seating peeled and scratched to death by a past of scrabbling dog claws. It smelled vaguely like cigarettes everywhere, but the sunroof was open so the fresh night air evened it out somewhat.

She bunched her knees up against the glove compartment, which for some reason was littered with peeling stickers, the kind you’d expect on a little kid’s homework after a good grade. There was a dinosaur on a skateboard, and a pineapple that was almost too old and faded to recognize as more than a yellow blob.

“I like your stickers,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said, not looking away from the road. “Lisa Frank is a personal friend of mine.”

“Yeah right. They’re from when Val was a kid, aren’t they?”

“Yep.” He smacked the p.

It was weird to sit where Val once did. It was weird even imagining that Val hadn’t popped out of the womb as a fully formed Kickass Businesswoman.

Truth be told, Amanda had trouble picturing Robert as a dad too.

They fell into awkward silence, the quiet mumble of the radio underlying the trundling of the truck. She looked up and stared at stars through the sunroof, but they were mostly obscured by Maple Bay’s modest supply of light pollution.

She really wanted her dad right now.

She kinda wanted her mom too.

“You ok?” he asked. It occurred to her that it was weird of Robert not to turn the radio up, like he was expecting them to actually talk. They never talked.

She put on her best bullshit smile. “Yeah! Just gotta sneak in around Dad without a deep emotional conversation and I’m set.”

His dark eyes slid to her briefly before going back to the road. He didn’t say anything.

“... Thanks for picking me up,” she said.

“No problem,” he repeated. “Wasn’t quite asleep yet.”

“Since when do you sleep at night time?” Now she felt a little guilty.

He smiled crookedly. “Your dad’s a bad influence on my rebellious lifestyle.”

Silence. Stars and darkness. The little hula girl on Robert’s dash shook her hips but in a clattering broken way, like she was gearing up to collapse.

“He loves you a lot, you know,” Robert continued. The smile was gone, but there was something soft about his expression, lit orangeish by headlights. “What’s going on with me and your dad… if he ever thought it would hurt you, he’d toss me out in a heartbeat.”

Amanda felt childish and small, staring down the pineapple sticker. “I don’t want that. He’s really happy.”

“You make him happy too.” He paused, as if hesitating on his next sentence. “I’m surprised you guys haven’t talked this out, is all,” he admitted.

“He’s been pretty open to me about it,” Amanda said. When had her voice gotten so quiet? “I’m the one who’s been keeping her trap shut.”

What would she even tell Dad if she could? Ever since Mom died, it had been them against the world. Dad dated, sure, but it always seemed to peter out eventually. In the end, it was just the two of them on the couch watching bad tv all night and laughing together.

Now she was leaving for school. And Dad was getting more and more serious about this guy she barely knew. It was stupid, but she couldn’t shake this feeling that when she came back from HIA, suddenly everything would be changed, and she wouldn’t know the most important person in her life so well anymore.

It was _stupid_. It was selfish. All this time, she’d never seen Dad this happy and grounded as he was now that he’d found somebody he was in love with. She _wanted_ her dad to be happy. He was her best friend.

But did it hurt that she hadn’t been able to make him happy like this herself? Did everything they had as a little two-person family feel a little… inadequate now? For so long, had she been burdening him? When she left would that be the last puzzle piece slipping into place, creating his happiness without her? While she went off all alone?

Oh no. She was crying.

She was crying in Robert’s car and that was embarrassing as _fuck_ and that just made her cry harder.

Soon she was flat-out sobbing, curling herself up against the window with an arm over her head, trying to keep Robert from looking at her but it was impossible because he was _right there_.

She was wrapped up in her mom’s old jacket just like always and somehow that made her feel even lonelier.

After a moment, the truck stopped. Through her window she could blearily see that they’d pulled into the mostly empty parking lot of a Costco. God. She just wanted to sink through the floor into the pavement and disappear.

Robert didn’t say anything. She couldn’t look at him.

Rather abruptly he turned up the radio. It was a CD, she realized, as a wheezy voice sang one song after another into their silence. They were funny songs. One of them matter-of-factly talked about poisoning pigeons in the park with your lover.

She choked out a teary laugh because it was all so _dumb_.

“I’m not very good at taking care of people,” Robert admitted.

She wanted to say _I’m fine_ but she didn’t trust herself to talk yet without it coming out all blubbery and embarrassing and making things worse.

“I… care a lot about your dad,” Robert muttered. His hands were hanging in his lap, a little dejected. “It scares the shit out of me. All of this does. I’m sorry I’m not… better at it. But, uh. I want you to be ok, too. That’s important to me and to your dad.”

She’d never heard Robert Small ramble so much before. It was patently uncool. Maybe the secret was he’d always been just as uncool as Dad.

“I mean. You don’t have to be ok, either. It’s ok to not be ok. Ok? But… You’re a pretty neat kid. I’m not here to take your dad away from you. If I was, he’d have nothing to do with me.”

“You think I’m neat?” she finally managed. It came out kinda like a laugh again, but sniffly.

He looked surprised. “Well, yeah. Your dad talks about you all the time. Feels like I already know you a little.”

“You don’t, though. I’m pretty lame sometimes.”

He grinned. “You forget I’m dating your dad.”

They both laughed this time. Yeah, Dad’s lameness was hard to beat.

“I want to know you,” he said, very quietly. “If you want.”

“Yeah… Maybe I’d like that.”

“I’m not much to get to know, but I’m here.”

“Dad seems to handle you alright.”

“Well. That’s his skill.”

“... I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He said it so seriously.

“I’m not usually this dumb.”

“It’s not dumb.”

It seemed pointless to argue with him on that, so they just sat and listened to the weird comedy songs still playing, a little more comfortable now in their own skin.

Was it really that simple? One meltdown later and she was already feeling better… Or maybe she was just tired. But it wasn’t a bad tired, at least.

“Home, Jeeves?” she asked finally.

He put the truck back in drive, shooting her a smile that was oddly shy.

“Cheerio,” he said.

His voice cracked a little, but the drive home was light, even friendly.

 

x

 

_“Amanda told me you drove her home the other night.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“Thanks, Rob.”_

_“... You two talked?”_

_“Yeah. It was a good talk. Kinda rough but there were some things both of us needed to hear from each other, you know?”_

_“... Is she ok?”_

_“Yeah. Yeah, I think this time she really is.”_

_“You’re a good father.”_

_“She’s a good daughter. I’m very lucky.”_

 

x

 

The day came at last when they were packing all her dorm stuff into Dad’s car, and it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as she’d expected. Instead it felt right, heckling her dad about what went where, knowing that she was off on some strange adventure but that the first leg would be like this, in the family car.

Robert was there to help for the trip, wordlessly moving boxes, mostly keeping out of the way.

When it was all packed in and the trunk miraculously closed, Dad gave her a humongous grin. He was excited for her. Dang… She was excited too. She grinned right back, big and kinda frazzled but really damn happy.

He hugged her, a big bear hug and her face smushed against him in the usual place, but he clung a little more tightly this time. When he pulled back were there tears in his eyes?

“Daaaaad,” Amanda groaned, but she could feel her affection for him clogging up her sinuses too.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said.

This was not the time for another father-daughter cry session. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too. I always will.”

Robert came out the front door, letting it clatter behind him, and flinched when he seemed to realize he was walking onto A Moment. He quickly pretended to check his phone.

“You gotta use the bathroom at all?” Dad asked. “It’ll be a long drive.”

“I’m not the one with a tiny dad bladder,” she said.

“Good point.”

He went back inside, doing the lame dad-in-a-hurry half jog, lightly clapping Robert on the arm as he passed.

Robert came over slowly, sliding his phone back into his jacket pocket and keeping his hands there. She had her hands in her jacket pockets as well. They looked each other over, trying for casual.

“You don’t have to worry,” she told him, offering a smaller more genuine smile than she’d probably ever given him. “Dad was gonna take me up to school by himself. I was the one who suggested you should help us.”

His shoulders lowered almost imperceptibly. “I brought you something,” he said.

“Is it the dried up body of a real life government conspiracy alien?”

“Close.”

He pulled something out of his pocket and placed it in her hand. It was a big pink pocket knife, with a faded giraffe sticker on it. She flipped a few of the tools open with her fingernails. A knife, of course. A bottle opener (the most useful for college probably). Some toothpick-like pokey thing, and a pair of tiny scissors.

“It used to be Val’s,” he said awkwardly. “I don’t think she’d mind if you held onto it.”

With all the tools tucked away again, she let her fingers curl over the pink plastic, holding it close.

“Thanks, Rob.” An indescribable giddiness bubbled up in her throat, and had to escape as a little laugh. Relief, the absence of a stress that had lasted too long. Or maybe it was just, plain and simple, happiness. “Can I call you Rob?”

He smiled too. “As long as it’s not Bobert, I think we’re good.”

When Dad returned the three of them piled into the car, Robert in back, and a new chapter of her life began like this, surrounded by laughter and bad radio sing-alongs.

The third voice singing was less familiar, but fit in well, she decided. They’d needed a baritone.

 

x


End file.
